


Circuit

by suncityblues



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, izaya is the worst at feelings, raira days, tw: death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3513593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suncityblues/pseuds/suncityblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill from the DRRR kinkmeme:<br/>Izaya's a little too young for the things he sees sometimes.<br/>Takes place during Raira days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circuit

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme link: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/7084.html?thread=26015404#t26015404  
> 

He looks down at the body and thinks he might throw up.  
There is blood everywhere, pooling around his plain black school shoes, and his brain backfires. He’d never seen a dead body up close before and, boy, is it different from TV. 

The skin is waxy and yellowish, like a mannequin's, and on the inside he is at once afraid and sad and curiously blank, like his brain is going through so many emotions that they start canceling each other out. On the outside he is careful to not change his expression even slightly. Not too happy. Not too scared. The correct mix of pity and respect. The sort of face he's seen the forever unflappable Shiki use from time to time. Izaya's almost certain he's perfected it. 

The man on the floor was a janitor who arrived a little too early for his shift. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time; saw something he shouldn’t have. The man did nothing wrong and the kill was a quick shot to the right side of the head, as painless as possible to reflect that. Horrible crimes aside, the yakuza are still people after all and, besides, a shot like that is easy to make look like a suicide when the time comes. 

The tag on his lapel reads: Sato Ren. 

Izaya’s not sure he can do much now even if he wanted to as Kine moves around him, talking to someone on his phone in clipped even tones. He's not unaware that the reason Kine brought him along was to see this, and that his every move and expression is being gauged. 

He’d only just begun working with the Awakusukai and he knows, _he knows,_ he can’t show weakness now. He’s almost seventeen, and he can feel their eyes on him all the time. He’s too young, too inexperienced. He’ll crack and have to be taken out too.

So he stands there, staring at a water stain on the wall's moulding. Trying not to think about dying. About him being on the ground one day. About how easy it is to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

For a moment he thinks about his sisters but he doesn’t think about why. 

Kine puts a hand on his shoulder. It’s firm and solid, an anchor back to the real world. Some older women come into his periphery and start to mill about the hallway with cleaning supplies. They’re chattering about grandchildren, minor medical concerns. 

“Go home kid” Kine says.  
Izaya does not go home. 

Instead he wipes the blood off his shoe and goes to find Shizuo.  
The beast of Ikebukuro is nothing if not distracting, and even though they dislike each other (whenever they’re not sticking their hands down each other’s pants in dirty alleyways, anyway), Izaya can’t help the strong desire to not be alone. And, unlike Shinra, he won’t have to explain anything or feel like he’s imposing on any creepy one sided infatuations.

As far as Izaya's concerned, being wanted dead is better than not being wanted at all. 

When he finds Shizuo it’s dark outside and starting to get chilly. The blond boy has raw knuckles and is almost pouting in the dim street lights. Around him are, Izaya assumes, gang members, or some other group of delinquents. Four or five of them, laying in a heap together. Some are moving around a bit in pain but most are just sort of limply laying there. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what transpired before Izaya found him. Shizuo, for his part, doesn't even seem winded. 

Oddly enough, Izaya hasn’t goaded this or any group into attacking Shizuo in ages, but word’s gotten out to the point where he doesn’t even have to anymore. In a way it makes him proud, like he’s working without working. 

When their eyes meet Shizuo doesn’t exactly look ready to pounce at him but he certainly doesn’t look open or trusting either. 

“What do you want, Flea?” he snaps automatically. 

Izaya smiles wanly at him. 

They haven't gotten to the point where the very sight of each other incites immediate violence, but this is mostly because Shizuo doesn’t have the necessary proof that Izaya is out to ruin his life yet. And Shizuo, like so many other saps in Izaya’s life, wants to believe the best in others. Especially since Izaya is one of only a handful of people who isn't intimidated by him. 

Izaya ignores his question and asks one of his own.  
“You got in a fight again?” He knows the men strewn around are just unconscious at worst but he can’t look at them for too long, or else he’s afraid his hands will start to shake. 

He thinks of waxy plastic skin. He thinks about how inexperienced he is. He thinks that Kine might never hire him again and he’ll have to go back to messing with Heaven’s Slave prototypes with the putz, Nakura. 

Shizuo just grunts in response and begins walking towards the main road, with Izaya close behind him. 

Izaya is still following when they get to a cross walk and he can feel the discomfort radiating off of his classmate’s body. Rarely outside of Shinra's prescence have they stood so close together. To head it off Izaya puts a light hand on the small of Shizuo’s back and says, “Let’s go to my place, my sisters are visiting my parents this week.” It’s not a question and it’s not subtle, the hand on Shizuo’s back implying even to the least attentive of people what it is Izaya wants. 

Except Izaya himself had no idea what he wants. To have never been born in the first place, maybe. For now though, he just panicked at the prospect of going back to his place alone. 

Shizuo regards him with an upticked eyebrow. Sure, they’d messed around here and there, but usually it was an adrenaline thing, and it never lasted longer than a few fleeting moments before descending back into pure animosity. 

This is different, this is Izaya asking him to spend the night. 

Izaya’s never been very good at reading Shizuo, mostly because the man is so simple it’s almost too easy, and this time is no exception. What he was expecting was a firm “no” and a taunt maybe, an opening for Izaya to start a physical altercation and run the stress out of his bones. 

But instead Shizuo says, “okay.” 

And just like that they head to Izaya apartment in silence. 

He starts to get nervous when they get to his door. He’s not sure what he wants and his mind keeps circling back and forth to unsafe waters. 

He’s glad he found Shizuo though. Truth be told, Izaya’s not much of a prude and certainly not inexperienced, but if he had gone to someone else tonight, one of his contacts, perhaps, he might have felt more of an obligation to have a reason to be with them. With Shizuo, he could just change his mind and kick him out, let it be chalked up to Izaya tricking him, yet again. 

Izaya fumbles with the lock for a while until Shizuo gets huffy behind him, which naturally galvanizes Izaya into getting his act together. The door is open in seconds, and Izaya intentionally lets it shut on Shizuo’s face in a petty act of revenge. 

His apartment is small, made even smaller by Mairu and Kururi’s clothes and toys strewn around the place, the occasional flick blade stowed here and there. Hardly anyone ever enters the apartment besides them so he never had much of a reason to keep in pristine condition. His mother had offered to hire a weekly cleaner but there is no way Izaya is letting a stranger get access to his home. Shizuo, for his part, doesn’t even seem to notice the clutter and sits immediately on the couch, like this is all very normal for him. Izaya can't help but envy how little the other boy seems to think about implications; how social norms seem to roll right off him. 

Automatically Izaya offers a beverage like he would to any guest, but makes no moves to go near the kitchen, instead heading towards Shizuo. 

“You’d probably poison it” Shizuo quips with only a minimal amount of bitterness.  
Izaya hums an affirmative and then kisses him. 

The kiss is chaste but Shizuo is breathing heavily and holding him so tightly around the waist, he'll have bruises tomorrow he’s sure. 

Izaya hadn’t even realized he’d gotten so close until he’s almost sitting on Shizuo’s lap. He can feel his hands shaking without his consent. It makes him angry. 

He thinks maybe he does want this. Maybe a little too much.  
And he thinks about what a fucking waste his life is if it can be reduced to just this. Just wanting To be touched by someone else. Trapped in the quicksand of human pheromones, emotions.

He presses his forehead against Shizuo’s, wraps his hands around his neck. He squeezes as hard as he can though he knows it’ll do no good. 

Shizuo beings to rub his back in slow moving circles. 

“You’re crying” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Well the request was for ic crying izaya, hopefully this came across well? Also I know Izaya actually canonly hides dead bodies but, y'know, kink meme.. .


End file.
